


vessel of chaos

by Revanche



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alien Sex, Cum Inflation, Egg-laying, Eggs, Guro, Impregnation, Insults, Intersexuality, Interspecies, M/M, Mpreg, Public Sex, Tentacle Porn, Tentacles, Violence, Xeno, nothing about this is right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2012-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 04:05:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Revanche/pseuds/Revanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki's reputation precedes him, even among the Chitauri. (TAKE NOTE OF THE TAGS, PLEASE)</p>
            </blockquote>





	vessel of chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys... I really have no way to defend myself. It's shameless, dirty, hentai-esque impregnation/egg-laying porn with really no basis behind it except the fact that a) that Chitauri was totally creeping on Loki in that one scene, and b) those space-whale-snake things bear a superficial resemblance to Jormugandr, so my mind ran with that.
> 
> Also, we know blessed nothing about the MCU Chitauri, let alone their methods of reproduction, so I took some extreme liberties in the direction of ovoviviparity. 
> 
> (oh god what have I done)

The Chitauri's breath is hot on his neck, strong fingers pressed into the hollow at the base of his throat. Loki is bound to give the vile alien what he wants, no matter how degrading his proposal. After all, if he were to shy away from any repugnant action with the promise of personal gain, he would not be Loki.

"Asgardian wretch," the alien hisses, pressing his body against Loki's back. "I know of your trysts, your monstrous children. You'll spread your legs for anyone, won't you, whore?" The Chitauri's hand travels lower, working open the fastenings of his clothing, exposing Loki's skin to the chill of the air. "Or anything."

"I grant special concession to the ones who don't call me such names," Loki says under his breath, not pulling away, but not pushing back into his touch, not yet.

The alien pulls away, regarding him calmly for a moment, before rearing back and striking Loki across the cheek, hard enough to make him stumble, falling to his knees. "I will call you whatever I wish, _whore_ , for without our intercession, you would be lost to the void of space!" the alien roars, then, kneeling to his eye level, grabs Loki's chin and turns his face toward him. "You owe us an enormous debt, godling, and this is how you will repay it." Loki does not move, steeling himself against the pain from his now-split lip.

"Now, Asgardian, what shall I call you?" the Chitauri continues, voice low and raspy once again.

"Whore," Loki breathes.

"Good." The alien grabs his over-long hair and tugs on it roughly, wrapping the dark locks around his hand and forcing Loki onto all fours. Loki has no hope of fighting back, not in his weakened state, with no weapons and little magic. The alien's form, broad and muscled, endless junctions of metal and flesh that make no logical sense, is formidable indeed, and Loki does not feel like testing the limits of his immortality at this moment.

"You will make good on your bargain, slut. You wanted an army, and you will have one - birthed from your own divine cunt." The alien palms Loki's crotch, pressing his fingers into the part he desires and making him gasp involuntarily.

"Yes, _my_ army," Loki says, obedient, but emphasizing the possessive ( _my children, my army, they will take what has been stolen from me_ ).

The Chitauri, less incensed than amused by his insolence, tears Loki's clothing off with his claws, as if they were made out of little more than paper. He is completely exposed now, from the waist down, and the alien makes an appreciative sound at the sight before him. "Such a pretty little thing," the Chitauri growls, slapping Loki's ass and letting his claws drag along his skin, leaving red welts and streaks of blood in their wake. "Even prettier when you're full with my seed, I'll bet." He slides his hand upwards, palming Loki's flat belly.

Loki hears other voices now, all around them, murmuring, laughing, growling. "I've invited a few friends who were most curious to see how an Asgardian bitch begs for it. Care to give them a show?"

Loki is no stranger to humiliation - he knows it well, he felt it when he, so ravaged from his foaling he was incapable of _seidr_ for weeks afterwards, limped into Asgard bleeding and nude with the newborn Sleipnir at his side. He tells himself this is no worse than that - at least if he births his own army, his children will have the dignity of serving their mother instead of being taken as slaves to the Allfather, ridden around like a common animal rather than the child of a god.

"I do not beg," Loki says, haughty, testing.

The alien laughs, joined by the growing Chitauri audience. "You will if I tell you to, sweet little thing."

Loki feels ...something... press against his opening, teasing at the edges of it. It moves of its own volition, pressing inside him, shifting to accommodate the shape of his sex - a tentacle, long and probing. Then, more of it fills him without warning, causing him to cry out. It is as if the Chitauri's cock is filling every possible bit of space inside him, lengthening and expanding to fit, stretching his birth canal to capacity.

"Different from what you're used to, slut?" the Chitauri laughs.

"It is sufficient," Loki replies, stifling a cry of pain (and pleasure - for Loki, the two often go hand in hand). The Chitauri roar appreciatively, and his partner angrily grabs Loki's hair, tugging his head back sharply. "Your flippancy is ill-placed, trickster."

And then Loki really does cry out, because the tentacle inside him expands even more, at least twice its original size, bigger than he thought possible. He feels it fill his womb, pushing out visibly in a mockery of the pregnancy he craves. The Chitauri notices, and palms the obvious, painful swell of his belly. "Our members are often too much for fragile things like you, godling." He squeezes his belly, and Loki is hit by a searing pain that throws him off balance, arms trembling and giving way, putting him in an even more degrading position than before - barely supporting himself on his elbows, ass angled upwards, held up only by the force of the alien's grip on his swelled belly.

"You'll be even bigger than this when you clutch for me," the alien continues, pressing his fingers harder into the bulge of his cock inside Loki's belly. Loki keens from the pressure, unable to form words, but even more so, unwilling to give this vile creature the satisfaction of knowing he enjoys this. His cock is hard now, completely ignored by the Chitauri in favor of his cunt, a matter he will deal with later. The alien begins to thrust slowly, tentacle roiling and pulsing inside him, expanding and contracting as he pumps eggs into his womb.

"You are only worthy of being a vessel, Asgardian witch," the Chitauri growls, the force of his thrusts sending shock waves through Loki's entire body as he continues to fill him with eggs, digging his claws into the taut skin of his belly as he moves him back and forth on his cock. The pain is overwhelming, enough to cause Loki's vision to go dark at the edges, and he cries out in spite of himself. Just when he feels as though he might pass out, the alien's final release comes, sudden, but just as forceful as the initial entrance of the alien's cock, filling him completely. The eggs are heavy inside him, and slick seed drips out of his cunt and down his thighs, around the Chitauri's massive sex. The alien heaves a satisfied, grunting sigh, pulling out of him and letting go of his belly, leaving him to slump down onto the rocky ground.

He leaves in silence, along with the other Chitauri, and Loki curls around his swollen belly, bloodied and strained from the alien eggs filling his womb. He caresses the curve of it, tracing runes of protection, of success and valor and vengeance, over the stretched skin, and revels in his first victory, for he is a worthy vessel indeed - one of destruction.


End file.
